Uncle Ady

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ADRIAN POV 

“W-Why my hands? Do you have an obsession with chopping hands?”

Her instinct is clearly to refuse because of what happened at the auction. Can’t exactly blame her. When I planned to go to the auction, I sure as fuck didn’t think she’d be one of the women getting auctioned.

And certainly didn’t plan to bring her to my place. But it was either let her be taken by one of those men or bring her here.

Why I did that? The answer is crystal clear. Our little past. It stirs a memory within me. So letting her be taken by someone else wasn’t an option at all.

Reluctantly, she holds out her hands, trembling. I slice through the ropes, my blade cutting cleanly, exposing the angry red marks on her pale skin.

“You’re not tied anymore,” I rub the red marks. “But don’t mistake that for freedom. You run, and I’ll find you. And next time, I won’t be lenient.”

She glares at me. “Lenient? That’s what you call cutting off someone’s hand?”

“Would you rather I left you at the auction where a fat old man would have taken you to his bed tonight?”

Her voice trembles with anger. “I didn’t ask for your protection. I didn’t ask for any of this! I was supposed to leave the house and embrace my new identity and freedom.”

No, she didn’t ask for any of it. But this is mafia. We don’t run by morals because everything we do is forced by the evil this world demands. Coming from a mafia background makes her a target by default. Too bad she's weak and has no one to protect her from this brutal world.

“Whether you asked or not, it’s done. In my world, weakness is exploited, and disrespect is punished. If you want to survive, you’ll stop questioning me.”

As I speak, my eyes catch sight of something behind her, on the floor. Blood. Bright red, beneath her feet, trailing her steps in vivid prints on the marble floor.

“What happened?”

Her gaze follows mine, landing on her bare feet. The realization dawns, her expression shifting from anger to something more subdued, almost panicked. “I—I’ll clean it—Vinegar and baking soda can remove stubborn stains.”

Her first thought isn’t about herself but about the floor? The absurdity of it strikes me, but I keep my face unreadable.

“Stay still,” I command, my tone leaving no room for argument. I throw her over my shoulder and stride up to my bedroom.

“What the fk! Put me down!” She struggles, attempting to beat my back with her fists, which are nothing but little pokes from a kid.

“Looks like you forgot what I did at the auction if you are daring to hit me.”

Her punches stop, and she stays still.

As still as if dead.

“Bring warm water and towels to my bedroom.” I order the servant in the corridor, noticing the weird expression. And then it sticks—

She’s barely wearing anything, and this position is giving an exaggerated view of her gorgeous ass.

I put her down on the stairs, shrug my coat off, and put her inside it, buttoning her up.

She’s so small and frail. Does she ever eat?

“W-Why are you taking me to your bedroom?”

Her suspicious tone amuses me as she struggles again when I try to throw her on my shoulder. “Behave.”

“I won’t. Don’t you dare touch me. I’ll chop off your dick into pieces and feed it to street dogs--”

I’m already on the move, throwing her over my shoulder.

This woman’s head is somewhere else entirely. But I’m genuinely surprised that a daughter of someone in our world is a virgin even at 22. That’s the rarest of rare.

“Why are you not answering?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

She’s testing my patience, which I don’t like. “Everything in this house is worth more than your worth. I’d hate to see red stains everywhere. So be quiet.”

She mutters curses under her breath. The fire in her is still alive, as expected from Lilly’s daughter.

I barely open the door to my room, and two figures run and hide behind the curtains.

Sophie and Ghost.

These two will never stop prying into my space. That’s why they probe around my room in my absence and question me about it later. Sometimes even blackmail.

She twists a little on my shoulder. “Coloring book and crayons. That’s the least expected thing to find in your room.”

That’s not mine. It belongs to Sophie, who left that monstrosity on my bed.

I sit her down on the desk in my room. “Come out, you two.”

Ghost stops swishing his tail, and Sophie pulls her peeking toes under the curtain. A second later, both peek their heads from the small slit, grinning like fools.

“I was missing you that’s why I came here to sleep on your bed. It’s so soft and better than mine.”

“I got you the same bed, mattress, and bedding, Soph.”

“But your fragrance was missing, Uncle Ady,” Sophie bats her lashes, the small thing that she knows melts my heart. “Who is she? Oh no Ghost DON’T—”

Elena curls herself on the desk, scurrying away from Ghost’s sniffing, her face drained of blood.

“You didn’t tell me you have an overgrown cat in your house!”

“Don’t run,” I advise, “It’ll only make him curious.”

“You should have left me at the auction. It’s better to bed a fat guy rather than end up in a tiger’s stomach for dinner.” She moves around the desk, dropping things on it.

My OCD kicks in, seeing the mess. Troublesome woman.

Ghost jumps and puts his paws on the desk, just inches from her, his nose twitching as he sniffs her. Then, without warning, he nudges her ankle with his massive head.

Elena yelps, stumbling backward on my chair at an odd angle.

Jesus.

Sophie chuckles, eyes gleaming with amusement as she runs to control Ghost. “He likes you.”

“He… what?” Elena splutters, pointing at the tiger. “That thing just tried to eat me!”

I scratch Ghost behind the ears as the tiger lets out a low, contented rumble. “If he wanted to eat you, he would have known by now. Trust me.”

“That’s not reassuring!”

“Uncle, you tease,” Sophie giggles, “Who is she? Your girlfriend or my new nanny?”

Let’s not talk about nanny. They don’t stay at the job for more than a week, courtesy of Ghost, who chases away everyone if Sophie disapproves.

“What are you doing here at this time of the night?”

Sophie rounds the desk and pokes Elena on the cheek, who is deathly still, glaring at the tiger. “So soft. Are you going to marry my uncle?”

I’m tempted to leave them here and return to my study. But Sophie will follow me until she gets answers.

“No. That’s Elena, and she will stay here from now on.”

“Trust me, I won’t.” Elena blinks big grey eyes at me, still shivering from Ghost, who won’t stop staring at her.

“We’ll see.” I dig out my phone and call the servant. These two troublemakers need to go out first. “Take Sophie and Ghost back to their room.”

“Uncle Ady! It’s too early. I don’t want to sleep.”

“It’s half past twelve.”

“But—”

I give her the look that says no more words, completely aware Elena is staring at me like she found something unbelievable.

By the time I send those two out, Elena has already made her first attempt to escape. My coat is on the floor, and she is on the balcony.